


Self-Improvement

by ThoughtsCascade



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Introspection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:20:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23747464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThoughtsCascade/pseuds/ThoughtsCascade
Summary: Ben had a plan to rid himself of the monster inside.
Relationships: Ben Hargreeves & The Hargreeves, The Hargreeves Family
Comments: 1
Kudos: 12





	Self-Improvement

Ben was so, _so_ tired. His abilities were getting more and more difficult to have a handle over. He was… well, he was afraid that they might overtake him someday, make him do something he really, really didn’t want to do. Hurt people. Even more than he already was. Or worse yet, hurt his siblings.

His abilities didn’t come with an off switch. _It_ was a constant thing within him. He just wanted _it_ gone. Maybe the desire was selfish. Maybe it was noble. Maybe it didn’t matter.

It was his body, he ought to be able to do with it as he liked.

He barely had even basic levels of control anymore, sometimes. _It_ ripped and roared and wrenched control whenever he got too emotional. He had to remain calm, contrite, conciliatory. If he so much as raised his voice in anger or fear, _it_ took over. He was beginning to lose time, have blackouts, he wasn’t sure the exact term but he could no longer remember what _it_ had done when _it_ was in control. Maybe it was some type of… trauma thing, or something, but Ben didn’t think so. Because if it was, then why would he have such clear memories of what _it_ had done when he was a child? He wasn’t an expert, but it seemed it would be odd for him to suddenly develop some new coping mechanism.

It didn’t help that there wasn’t really anyone left who he could talk to about this. Luther, Diego, Allison, their powers were… well, Ben didn’t want to say _easy_ , it wasn’t his place to judge their burdens, as much as Klaus had used to sigh resentfully about how easy the early numbers had it, but they were certainly a far cry less… all-impactful than the next three’s. They seemed mostly or entirely intuitive, they could be turned off, they worked pretty much no matter what state of mind they were in.

Klaus… well, Klaus has figured out that his abilities didn’t work when he wasn’t sober and… well, that was that, wasn’t it? Klaus would do anything if it meant not suffering his abilities, even if it killed him… Ben wasn’t sure if that was bravery, cowardice, or some strange amalgamation of the two. 

Ben had tried smoking with him, once. _It_ had made him throw up until his throat was raw, claw his skin, made the experience so profoundly _bad_ he knew not to try it again. It had horrified Klaus to the point that even now, five years later, Klaus wouldn’t even smoke if Ben was in the room, fearing some might get in his system or the smell might set _it_ off. Not that Klaus was on just weed and drinks anymore.

Klaus had been the one who understood what it was like to have powers like theirs, but Klaus was… different, high. He’d drift towards being more callous, less caring, less emotional overall. He almost didn’t seem to _have_ negative emotions anymore. And it wasn’t as though Ben spent time with Klaus just to be negative, but it was now extremely difficult to have any type of serious conversation with him. Ben didn’t _begrudge_ him this, they’d both promised once that if either of them found a way to stop their abilities, they’d take it, they’d support each other through it. And Ben was trying, despite his worries. Klaus was safe, Klaus was fine, Klaus didn’t have a problem since he wasn’t O.Ding…

So Klaus was out as the serious confidant he’d once been. 

Then Five was, of course, missing.

A shame, since when they were eleven years old he’d been the one Ben had the all-important discussion with. The one to whom Ben had confessed he was pretty sure _it_ was slowly taking control of him. 

Five had been the one he’d had a rational conversation about it with. Five had been the one Ben went to after he made the mistake of reading _The Puppet Masters_ and had become afraid of the one living inside of him, not just resentful as he once had been.

Five had been the one who agreed to kill him if _it_ ever took over completely, or for too long.

That wasn’t something any of their other siblings would understand, Ben knew. Klaus… Klaus was still sensitive, in different ways than Ben was, to be sure, but he wouldn’t be able to do much as punch a sibling to save the world, Ben was just about certain. Anyways, his powers weren’t combat-oriented. Allison’s rumors didn’t work on _it_ , they’d tried and _it_ had nearly killed her. Not to mention she was the one with the least bloody powers, she couldn’t kill. Diego… well, all else aside, knives just caused _it_ to grow stronger. Like a hydra. Luther… Luther was cutthroat, but not quite to the extent of Five. He would falter, hesitate at a crucial moment if he had to kill something with his little brother’s (because they were all younger siblings to Luther) face. 

No, Five has been the only one ruthless enough, the only one pragmatic enough, to understand that Ben’s life wasn’t worth multiple other people’s, to be trusted with exterminating Ben if it took him over. None of the others even knew just how deep that fear went. Didn’t know it at all, actually. 

Except Luther, but he didn’t even know the fear so much as the basis- he’d been there once for all their medical exams, father figuring that he’d need to know everything about his team to be an efficient leader. He’d been there when father had mentioned that even more space in Ben’s body seemed to be taken up by _it_ , back a few months ago. But one medical exam wasn’t enough for Luther to put the pieces together, of course not. How could it have been? Luther wasn’t dumb, but out of the six of them three skewed towards book smarts and three towards street smarts, and he was part of the former. He couldn’t theorize potential uses of powers and potential effects as well. Hell, Ben couldn’t either really, he was just as much on the book smarts side, except when it came to his own. 

Luther didn’t extrapolate enough to understand the meaning of the fact that once _it_ hadn’t taken up any space at all, and now it threatened to break Ben’s ribs.

Not that the space it took up seemed to be the amount it should? Ben wasn’t quite sure how it worked, thankfully their father had never taken as much interest in his abilities as everyone else’s. Five had once theorized that there might be some sort of pocket dimension in Ben’s stomach, but that wouldn’t explain why it was partially visible on x-rays so Ben wasn’t really sure what to think.

All he really knew of it was that he was tired of _it_.

And everyone seemed to agree that _it_ wasn’t him. Their father, looking at it scientifically- if Ben didn’t feel pain when one of the tentacles was damaged, then they weren’t part of him. Klaus, looking at it emotionally- Ben hated hurting people, _it_ enjoyed doing so, ergo Ben wasn’t _it_. Most of the others somewhere in the middle.

So this would be fine. It had to be. This was the result of over five years of research, compiled on his own. Of course on his own, because he- no, _it_ \- disgusted father, scared One through Three, and Klaus was always high now.

And Vanya… well, it felt unfair to complain to her about his powers when she’d kill for her own. Even if he or Klaus would have died to be like her, to not have to put up with their curses. She assumed that not having abilities was the cause of father’s ill-treatment of her, not seeming to realize the rest of them suffered in different ways.

Then, Ben had to admit there were lots of bonds that they had that she didn’t. Whether trauma was a net-positive bond, on the other hand, was an entirely different question.

But honestly, Ben would rather have researched on his own anyways. The others might take it the wrong way. 

Hell, most of them probably still would. Klaus was probably the only one who would understand.

Assuming this even- no. It had to work. It was going to work. Ben would be free. Then he could apply to college and leave, just like he’d planned. Figure out who he really was as a person. Take Klaus with him, maybe some of the others if they really wanted. Vanya too, if he could convince her.

The scales had tipped, and he was tired of being… being as he was. A host to a monster. (Not a monster himself, he was not _The Horror_ , he _wasn’t_.)

He tiptoed out of bed, sneaking down the hallway, thinking of what his siblings’ reactions would be when he told them he’d gotten rid of the monster for good.

Klaus would be thrilled for him. Nothing else, Klaus was good like that. Maybe a bit worried about how the others would react, if Ben caught him sober, but that would be secondary.

Allison would be… well, if Ben was being honest, Allison was probably the sibling he knew the least about. They’d never had much in common. He imagined she’d be a bit relieved, because of course The Horror scared her. Possibly curious as to how he had done it. She would probably just figure it didn’t impact her and avoid getting in the middle of it.

Diego would probably seem a bit sick, insist he didn’t want to know how Ben had done it. For someone who used knives, he could be oddly squeamish at times. The Horror unsettled him, Ben knew. He’d probably ask if Ben was feeling okay, try to get Mom and convince her that Ben was sick, that she should make his favorites. He probably wouldn’t directly say anything to Ben one way or the other. He liked to pretend he was too cool to care, or something. Ben wasn’t sure if it was a coping mechanism or not.

Luther would be pissed. Say that Ben had destroyed a valuable asset for his own comfort. Luther didn’t get Ben’s issues with his abilities, despite seeming unsettled by the little he did know. He also assumed that Klaus over exaggerated. Well... couldn’t please everyone. Luther would manage to forgive him eventually, Ben knew. He was a bit lacking in EQ, but he still cared. Everyone had their own reactions to being raised here, Ben couldn’t fault him.

Their father would be terrifying. Ben knew how he treated Klaus for attempting to avoid using his abilities, knew how the man treated Vanya for the cardinal sin of not having any. It would hurt, to be treated like that, but Ben could handle it.

Five was missing. Missing, not dead, because even when he could see ghosts Klaus swore he’d never seen Five’s. And while Klaus knew he didn’t see every dead person, there weren’t enough ghosts for that, he claimed, he figured that if there was any choice in the matter Five would have found him since he knew.

Vanya would probably resent him. Her forgiveness Ben wasn’t as certain of. They had a tenuous relationship that relied on neither of them so much as acknowledging that powers existed, lest they get in an argument.

Ben thought his heart might break if he lost any of them, but better that than risk killing them later on. He could survive. He’d definitely keep Klaus, probably Diego, maybe Allison, and he’d get Luther back. To the extent he’d ever had the latter three.

Legally an adult, but still sneaking out at night. Ben kind of hated it. In fairness, he probably would have snuck out to do this anyways, but an eight o’clock curfew to be in their rooms was ridiculous. He was sneaking out of his room at eight thirty, for fuck’s sake. 

He pulled on his hood. At least being actual adults meant they’d be allowed out sometimes, had given them the chance to get some clothes, see some museums for ‘cultural enrichment’ or whatever. 

He was almost- not glad, content maybe?- that he could face his literal demon wearing an outfit he actually _liked_. All black, which he was sure would have people thinking he was a punk, but it did make it easier to sneak out.

And he had a feeling things might get messy. Black hid stains, so he wouldn’t ruin one of his few non-academy outfits. 

Sneaking out was old hat by now, even if Ben didn’t do it as often as Klaus, or Diego. Even though they hadn’t all snuck out as a group since Five vanished. Ben was pretty sure their father was always aware when one of the children left, but most of the time they weren’t called out. 

Ben tried to avoid thinking of the constant surveillance when he could. It was a bit too Orwellian for his tastes. He’d always (at least, since many sci-fi scares at age eleven,) preferred his readings realistic, with no monsters to be found. Not pure fact, not science, he wasn’t Five- but a glimpse into whatever the hell a ‘normal’ life was. 

Ben checked his pockets for the money one last time. Okay, good. He wouldn’t want to risk passing the rooms twice. Unless something went terribly wrong, he ought to be back before morning.

His first stop was the supermarket. He had some things to buy. Lighters, salt, water, aspirin, cough medicine, cleaning supplies. Sure, he could have gotten the first from Klaus, but then, he was also buying a knife from a specialty shop instead of borrowing one from Diego. 

It felt important that he not use items borrowed from his siblings for this, though he couldn’t really pin down why. Still, he figured he should trust his gut on this one. His gut was pretty close to where the creature resided, after all. It would know what was necessary. 

Next to the shop to grab the knife he’d ordered a month ago. Unfortunately, he couldn’t use the guy Diego had used before starting to make his own, just in case someone said something somehow, but it had been a starting point to find other reputable makers. Who’d have thought that their city would have ample options as to where to purchase custom-made knives? Not that Ben was going to complain. He shot the breeze with the guy a bit, knowing how important it was to be casual about his cleaving knife, act as though he were just an eccentric rich kid, asking for a silver cleaving knife of all things. Pretend he’d see this guy again. As if. If Ben ever needed another custom-made knife again for whatever reason, he’d just ask Diego.

He just hadn’t this time because he hadn’t told anyone what he was doing. Orwellian surveillance was something to avoid thinking about, yes, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t be cautious about it. 

Their father couldn’t know. 

Next, grab a motel room. Check the time- around ten. Perfect. Nothing suspicious about getting a motel room at ten.

He felt a little bad, knowing this might get messy, but he’d do his best to clean up. He needed to do this, for his own sanity, for his own worries about the safety of… well, anywhere from himself to his siblings to the city to the world, depending on how fearful of The Horror he felt at any given second, and how realistic he was being. (Which side was the realistic side, well, both sides would claim that title in the moment.)

Time to pour the salt into the gallon jug to dilute it. 

Then he drank some of the cough syrup after confirming (for what must have been the fifth time) that it was the type made to knock people out so they could sleep at night. Then some of the aspirin. He’d always been resistant to drugs, The Horror didn’t like them at all.

He waited until he could feel his thoughts slowing. (His favorite memories of his siblings- a reminder of why he needed to do this. It was fine, he wasn’t The Horror.) He occasionally checked on the jug, added more salt.

He’d always felt somewhat nauseous after eating things with salt, which seemed as good a sign as any that maybe The Horror didn’t like it. Or, even better, that salt actually caused it to feel some level of pain.

Ben shivered, despite his too-warm skin (always too-warm, inhumanly so, a direct counterpart to Klaus’ own corpse-like temperature, they’d only ever reached an equilibrium if they were touching-).

He wasn’t The Horror. Even if he killed it, he would be fine.

_When_ he killed it. He would succeed. 

And he knew how to hurt it, through both tests of his own and practical experience. Fire. Like a hydra. Silver, weirdly. Klaus had laughed the other day, when he saw the paper reading the ways to possibly or definitely hurt it (unlabelled and in a code, of course, Ben wasn’t stupid. He had just taught Klaus most of the codes), asking if Ben was off fairy hunting. Ben hadn’t bothered to ask what Klaus meant, knowing he was high.

He flicked the lighter on and off a few times, making sure it worked easily. Maybe he should have gotten a blowtorch instead, but a look at the laws said that would require ID. They didn’t have IDs, he didn’t even know if any of them had social security numbers. They’d never even been to a hospital.

Were they even vaccinated? Ben sure didn’t know. Maybe it was slipped in with other things during medicals…

Okay. Time to stop procrastinating. 

Ben let The Horror out. He immediately began cutting and burning and he could _feel **it** under his skin_ but it wasn’t trying to stop his hands so he couldn’t focus on what it was doing, even as he felt some of his ribs breaking. It was moving a bit more slowly than usual, and there was some ungodly shrieking noise, but he could see a dent in the number of tentacles so it didn’t matter. And he felt fine, except whatever the one inside of him was doing. 

He could deal with that in a minute. The problem was that they healed when he recalled them, but if he got the rest, recalled this one then killed it he would be fine.

He would be free.

Then, he felt his heart explode, let out a strangled scream of his own.

He heard the door open, time seeming to slow down. 

“Wait until it stops moving, then we’ll discard the body. Any of the others, I would say we should study, but this one I don’t want to risk it.” That was… father?

“Yes sir.” And Mom?! There you go Diego, proof she didn’t actually give a shit about them if she wasn’t rushing over.

“Perhaps he’ll at least be useful by coming back, which may allow us to test more of Number Four’s abilities, if we feel up to…”

Then, the next thing he knew, Ben was standing above Klaus’ sleeping form.

Fuck. Klaus was going to be _pissed_. Well, maybe not on a literal level, this might be enough to get him to sober up.

But Ben was _dead_ , both literally and metaphorically. 

**Author's Note:**

> Concrit welcome, I wrote this about a year ago and just realized I never published it.


End file.
